Heartbreaker
by Cafinatedangel13
Summary: The first thing any father says when he meets his baby girl is that she'll break hearts someday... Talon/Maggie, Brooklyn/Maggie, but only if you want to get technical about things.
1. Chapter 1

She was always going to break his heart.

He had known that, really he had, from the very first moment he saw her. A dirty, tangled mess of knotted hair and matted fur, round cat-like eyes the soft color of a harvest moon wide with confusion and fear, arms thrown up defensively as she backed herself further into a corner as if having her back against the wall was still preferable to being any closer to him.

But at the same time she was beautiful to him, slit pupils wide in the low light, a tangled mane of copper waves that tumbled down to her waist…wild but tamed and soft, so very soft, so fragile beneath that veil of terror and disgust.

And he had _wanted_, oh how desperately he had wanted. He had never gotten the chance to determine _what _exactly he had wanted, but in the end it hadn't mattered because always, always, _always _he had wanted to help her more than he had wanted to keep her.

And that would be his ultimate undoing because it meant that his feelings were _real_. This constant, heavy presence that settled like stone in his chest, thick and solid it weighed down his heart like chains, constricting tightly with every frightened glance and biting word.

But she came to him when she had no one else to turn to, trusted him, finally, to set her world right again. And that smile, the first one she had shown him, wide and thankful and full of admiring trust through grateful tears, loosened those chains just a little and was certainly worth every moment of agony he knew he would feel later.

She looked happy, euphoric in fact, as she crashed into the arms of another male like a wave reuniting with the shore. That made his heartache just a bit easier, that much less of a burden. It soothed the raw, burning pieces and smoothed the rough, jagged edges, easing everything back into place. The heavy mass of his love, unrequited, unneeded, dropped over his crushed heart, dragging it down to the very floor of his soul.

But Talon really did seem equally consumed and devoted to her, and _she was happy_. And that made him happy. Happy enough to carry a burden that would crumble a mountain, that no one could help him shoulder, that no one could see.

Because despite his youth and inexperience, despite how little he really knew her, his love was real; its most basic, purest form. And love, real love, can be a beautiful _punishment_ indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

She was always going to break his heart.

He should have realized that from the very beginning; he really should have. Neither was truly suited to the other, not the partner either would have chosen in a world that still made sense. They had been thrown together, rapids of sanity in a flood of chaos, and they had clung to each other in desperation. Such a romance was never going to last.

But she had been so…so frightened and uncertain, so fragile, _innocent_. The desire to protect her was instinctual, natural. He hadn't questioned the surge of responsibility he felt towards her, the sharp, desperate _need_ to stay between her and harm, both emotional and physical. Allowed himself to bend wholly beneath the inlaid desire to at least try to preserve that innocents, a sweet naiveté that radiated about her like a halo despite the trauma she had experienced.

He hadn't cared at all for the ease with which he had fit into his new skin. His personality, dominant by nature, had projected itself with little effort onto this new form, melding as if fated to these corded muscles and jaws that _crush_, _bite_, and _snap_, and he found, with shame and disgust, that he liked, no _loved_, the freedom, the unadulterated power that came with the claws. The need to help her retain that innocents, to keep her from becoming as tainted as he found himself to be, stoked that spark of humanity left untouched by his transformation, and he loved her for keeping that most cherished part of himself alive.

Heartbreak turned out to be a lot less dramatic than he had always imagined it to be. It crept up slowly like the soft padding of feline footfalls that glide lightly through the dark unnoticed until nothing can prevent the spring. There was no anger, no warning, just the subtle shift of silences that once held more than words could express to the empty soundless stares of two strangers that didn't know what to say to each other as they quietly realized that what they had and who they were didn't quite fit together anymore.

It was a groundlessness, a sinking feeling as if a pit of quicksand had formed somewhere inside him and he hadn't had a chance to float. Each beat of his aching heart was suddenly harder than the last, every sharp _thud_ heavy and strangled as it struggled to find the surface again.

But given the option he wouldn't have done a thing differently. This emptiness, this crushing feeling of loss and despair was a fair trade for the absolute bliss of having had her. And he found he didn't really mind having a broken heart.

Not when she was the one breaking it.


	3. Chapter 3

She'd never considered herself much of a heartbreaker.

She was a shy girl, never quite at home with social interactions, uncertainty with herself and what was expected keeping her off balance and awkward. She was often the harbinger of uncomfortable silences and clumsy small talk, so she tried to keep to herself as much as possible and went out of her way to be somewhat anonymous.

And she wasn't a great beauty whose appearance could counter her crippling shyness and inelegant social skills. Pretty enough, she'd always thought, but nothing special. Her straight, straw-blond hair was soft and thick, dancing about her shoulders when she moved quickly but lacked luster and didn't shine. Her skin was clear and flawless, but there was little color in her cheeks and her pale complexion was better described as chalky than creamy which made the darkness of her too-brown eyes overly dramatic and out of place. A textbook example girl next-door.

Oh she had had her share of suitors certainly, but overall her experiences with romance were fleeting. And the only heart she'd ever broken had been her mother's from the backseat of a Greyhound without so much as letter goodbye.

But all of that was gone now, stolen through a veil of empty promises and a man with intelligence so profound it overshadowed wisdom. Her formless blond locks traded for a crown of copper curls. Chalky skin replaced with a milky pale tan pelt to match her new, literal cat's eyes. But it was from this loss, this destruction that had left her spirit broken and flirting with insanity that she had learned about the secrets and tragedies the heart keeps hidden.

Because there was Derek, her anchor when the bottom fell out of her entire world. He was strong, so much stronger than she, and determined to be strong enough for the both of them. Patient and guileless, he gently guided her out of the darkness and away from the edge she'd been teetering on. When he looked at her, she knew that she was needed, that he had meant it when he said he wasn't strong without her. And she _loved_ him.

And there was Brooklyn who always came to her rescue, even when she was too blind to realize she needed it. With grace he accepted her accusations and revulsion, his open heart sacrificed again and again at her alter as he easily slipped into whatever role she needed, an enemy, a scapegoat, a savior, a friend. He fled only when she demanded it, a tentative olive branch held forever in her direction as he buried his feelings to acknowledge her own. And she _loved_ him.

Two hearts. And she held them both, each cradled with loving caution in her careful hands. Both were given freely and without expectation. Both were hers to have, to keep, to cherish, to ultimately crush and utterly destroy.

No one wins when your heart is the prize, and every move you make breaks someone else's. One would always see her as naive and fragile, in need of concern and protection. The other had always seen her as innocent but wise, capable when given the chance. To both she was a beautiful tragedy. The softness of the rose...and the sting of the thorn. Salvation and its ultimate undoing.

A heartbreaker.


End file.
